


Just a Simple Cake

by SocksandFluff



Series: Midsomer Shorts [2]
Category: Midsomer Murders - All Media Types
Genre: Baking, Ben Jones Era, Birthday Cake, Bonding, Bonding over cake, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, John Barnaby Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 14:36:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12434862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocksandFluff/pseuds/SocksandFluff
Summary: What happens when a DCI tries to bake a cake for his wife with only the help of his DS?  Well, you can imagine how well that goes...





	Just a Simple Cake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [indigorose50](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigorose50/gifts).



“No, Jones, I don’t think that you have to stir it that much - I am pretty sure the recipe says that you only have to stir it _lightly,”_ Detective Inspector John Barnaby said, crossing the kitchen to intervene.

“Well there can’t be clumps of flour in there, now can there?” came the quick response from the Detective Sergeant, and gesture with a batter-covered spoon.  
  
“You aren’t whisking it to death, Jones - you’re mixing cake batter! Be more gentle.”

“But the flour clumps -” Jones protested.

“Oh - just give it here.”

Jones relented, letting go of the spoon and putting up his hands in defeat to allow his superior officer to take over.

“Just make sure there’s no clumps, sir.”

“There won’t be clumps.”

This clearly was a mistake.

At least Ben Jones could take comfort in the fact that this was by no means his idea at all. So, if it all fell around their ears - which it probably was - then he could hardly take the blame for it.

It had all started with John suggesting one day, ‘I should do something nice for my wife’s birthday.’

Which sounded all well and good at the time and Ben was more than happy to help - Sarah was a lovely woman - but why it had degenerated down to the two of them trying to _bake a cake_ for her was beyond him.

They were detectives, not bakers.

“We could still call -”

John cut him off before he could finish, because it was not the first time that Ben had suggested this, “- Leave your gran out of this. We got this, Jones. How hard could baking a cake be?”

Fairly hard, Jones would wager.

Why couldn’t they have just picked something simple? Like cupcakes? Or pancakes? Or something far less difficult?

It had taken them ages before John had found a recipe online he felt was ‘good enough’ and ‘easy enough to do’, before sending Jones off to play courier and fetch the items for the whole thing. Not to mention the number of times they had to go back out to the shops because they were missing various essential items, including a _cake pan_ of all things.

And flour.

Ben would take the blame for the flour.

The only easy bit of the whole day was convincing Sarah to get out of the house without her getting suspicious.

Getting her out of was easy enough. Too easy - if you asked him. Ben was pretty sure that Sarah had every idea what they were up to.

She had been oddly non-suspicious and seemed to eat up John’s story of having a ‘boy’s day in’ and insisted that she go out and treat herself on such a ‘lovely day’.

Why John thought he could get anything past his wife was beyond Jones.

But the matter of the fact was - the whole thing was a disaster, beginning to end.

They needed someone with a bit more experience at this sort of thing.

“Are you sure?” Jones continued on the line of contacting his gran, “Because she could just nip in, fix anything and then nip out again. Nobody would be any the wiser -”

“No Jones.”

Ben shook his head, and sighed. This was just going to end in tears.

 

* * *

 

“Well.”

“Yes. Well.”

“I well -”

“If you say one thing about, ‘I told you so’-”

He was tempted. “Oh no sir, I was just going to say at least the oven didn’t catch fire.”

“Oh ha ha.”

“Well it didn’t.”

“True. Score one for us then.”

“And ten more to the bloody cake,” Ben muttered bitterly.

John snuffed in sour amusement.

The two men were standing in front of a very dark brown cake. Very dark brown. If one squinted, and tilted their head _just so,_ one could imagine it was some sort of dark fudge-chocolate.

It was vanilla.

“I mean,” Jones started again, “Can’t say we didn’t try.”

“No we can’t.” John’s mouth was a thin like looking at the burnt disaster, arms crossed. “It’s not salvageable is it?”

“No... no I don’t think so.”

John clicked his tongue. “Damn.”

Silence fell between them as they continued to look at that sad, sad lopsided burnt husk of what could have been a cake. They had even tried cutting into it - burnt right the way through. Even the clumps of non-mixed flour hadn’t been spared.

After a bit John seemed to have enough of staring at the poor confectionery because he picked it up and slid it off of the plate and into the bin.

“Well I suppose we have to get out to the store and buy one - hardly the birthday surprise I wanted to give to my wife, but it’ll have to do...”

Ben tensed feelings slight prickle of guilt. He bit his lower lip.

“What?” John turned to him, having noticed out of the corner of his eye.

“Well sir...” Ben sucked in breath between teeth, giving a sheepish grin. “About my Gran...”

John’s eyes narrow. “ _You didn’t_.”

“ _Well-”_ Ben bounced on his heels, hands behind his back. “- I could see it wasn’t going all that well sir and -”

“- _and_ -” they both fully knew well where this was going.

“- _and_ I might have called my Gran while you went to the loo earlier.” He grinned sheepishly, almost expecting chastisement.

“Did you,” was the flat response.

“Yes - well - I told her our... our predicament, and... she said she’d make a cake. Just in case.”

“I see.”

Jones continued quickly, “Well sir, it is - er - well - it seems we have hit that moment of ‘just in case’ and I figured that we might as well _take_ it sir...”

John just stared at him.

“... It’s vanilla?” Ben offered lamely.

It probably took all that John had in him to keep himself from smiling. “Jones, you’re lucky I like you. Call your Gran.”

Jones breathed a sigh of relief. “Yessir.

 

* * *

 

It was just as Ben said. His Gran came in and out so quickly it was like she was hardly even there. In one moment, with a lovely home-made vanilla cake all neatly iced, and out again without even so much as a cup of tea.

She had even left some pre-made coloured icing in a bag so that John could have the honors of writing his wife’s on it.

So there the cake sat, in the same spot as it’s charred predecessor, as Sarah Barnaby admired it.

“Well well, boys, you two certainly outdid yourselves.”

“It was nothing,” John Barnaby said as he came up with the cake-knife, and he slid it into her hand from behind and kissed her cheek. “You get the honours of course.”

“No candles?” Ben asked as she made the first cut.

“No,” Sarah explained, “I just had a entire class go down with a cold because one child blew spittle all over his birthday cake. Before he shared it with the class,” Sarah added, “Rather turned me off of the idea this year.”

“Fine by me, it gets us to eating the cake faster,” John said cheekily.

“John.”

Once the cake was served onto their plates and the three of them sat at the table - Sykes sitting under John’s feet hoping for a morsel or two - they dug in.

It was delicious, of course.

That was to be expected anyhow.

“So,” Sarah started, licking icing off of her fork. “How _is_ your Gran anyway, Ben?”

John stared, Ben turned red, and Sarah just looked at them, grinning widely with the fork between her teeth. “Well?” she prompted, her voice full of mirth.

Jones coughed. “She’s great. Just fine.”

John adjusted his collar, and Sarah’s grin widened, eyes sparkling.

Caught.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to IndigoRose50 for the amazing idea.
> 
> I just love exploring the 'outside of the murders' more domestic sides of things, and seeing what John's relationship with Jones must have been like over the years of working together. They clearly became very close for Jones to pretty much be a part of the family in the end.
> 
> Let's hope they don't try baking again.


End file.
